


a sudden sense of liberty

by pinuspinea



Series: Swan Lake remixes [4]
Category: Swan Lake & Related Fandoms, Лебединое озеро - Чайковский | Swan Lake - Tchaikovsky
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Falling In Love, Father Figures, Growing Up, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:40:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25546831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinuspinea/pseuds/pinuspinea
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a prince who grew up lonely surrounded by too many people. He gained a friend in his tutor and fell in love, but he forgot that fairy tales can also have a sad ending.Snapshots of Siegfried.
Relationships: Odette/Prints Siegfried | Prince Siegfried (Lebedínoye Ózero | Swan Lake), Odette/Von Rothbart (Lebedínoye Ózero | Swan Lake), Odile/Prints Siegfried | Prince Siegfried (Lebedínoye Ózero | Swan Lake), Prints Siegfried | Prince Siegfried & Wolfgang (Lebedínoye Ózero | Swan Lake)
Series: Swan Lake remixes [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824241
Comments: 15
Kudos: 16





	a sudden sense of liberty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perennial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perennial/gifts), [Her_Madjesty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Her_Madjesty/gifts), [Mme de Croix](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mme+de+Croix), [Pure_Anon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pure_Anon/gifts).



> For the Swan Lake comment club. Thank you for kicking my muse into overdrive, breeding my plot bunnies until they explode out of their cage, and being the best comment club anyone could ever have.

Ever since he can remember, Siegfried hears tales of his father, what he would have done or how he would have acted. He hears himself being compared to a man who is no longer there, to a king that tragically died too young, hunted by animals he was supposed to hunt, and Siegfried thinks that there will never be a way to compare to a man whose image can no longer be tarnished.

There is a big painting of his father in the palace gallery, and sometimes Siegfried stands in front of the man and studies his face, his posture, his clothes, and tries to look more like the man in the painting. He tries to form his face into the same confident and slightly haughty look, but their features are too different. He tries to fix his posture, but his shoulders always slump. He tries to wear similar clothes, but they feel strange on him.

His mother often finds him there in the gallery, and she glances at the picture of her dead husband before she glances at Siegfried.

"You mustn't take their words too harshly, Siegfried," she tells him. "They are still not used to life without your father to guide them, but you must forge your own path if you want to be successful in life."

Her mother with her strong features and iron for spine is not intimidated by the nobles who have their own demands and ideas of what their country should look like, but shy Siegfried cannot imagine ever going against them. They always look so mean when he tries to express his thoughts.

Siegfried hesitates, but eventually he confesses his weightiest worry.

"I don't think I'll make a good king, mother," he says meekly. His mother scoffs.

"Of course you will," she says with confidence. "You simply need to become a little more confident in yourself."

* * *

A few weeks after that her mother announces that she has found him a tutor, and Siegfried worries that the tutor will be as bad as the other nobles, but he turns out to be a relative stranger. Siegfried thinks he has seen the man earlier from afar, but his way of speaking and dressing is odd compared to other nobles. His clothes are dark and his demeanour very still, but Siegfried senses there is much this man keeps to himself.

"May I join you, your highness?" the man asks with a slight bow even though Siegfried's mother has already introduced him to Siegfried. The man, Count von Rothbart, is not meek but neither is he rude. There is something in him that catches Siegfried's attention.

He turns out to be unlike anyone else. He soon becomes just Wolfgang, Siegfried's tutor and closest friend. The man is not often at the castle, preferring his own homestead deep in the forest, but when he is, he makes Siegfried finally feel at ease with how things are. Wolfgang is a great listener and never prompts conversations when Siegfried still needs to mull on matters, but his insight into palace life is almost unbelievably for someone who spends so little time there.

Wolfgang never mocks him, and he doesn't dismiss Siegfried's ideas outright. Instead, he focuses on finding their weaknesses and discussing how those might be improved upon. Siegfried never feels ashamed of himself with Wolfgang.

Sometimes, Siegfried wishes Wolfgang could have been his father instead of a king that died much too young on a hunting trip, a king Siegfried never got to know.

* * *

His clothes feel strange on him. Siegfried can often be seen fidgeting in them, and only his mother's sharp looks are enough to stop it for a moment, but even so, the itching doesn't pass. He has grown from a child into a gangly youth, his limbs stretched and his form not yet filled out, and he feels so strange nowadays that sometimes he wishes he could simply leave these new clothes behind and wander off.

Wolfgang has been gone for longer than usual, and when he returns, he immediately sees that something is different. Siegfried fidgets and the man falls a coordinated half a step behind him.

"Think of your clothes like a uniform," Wolfgang murmurs to him. "Or a costume that you wear to protect yourself."

The words are enough to calm the itch, and once Siegfried gets used to his clothes, he understands that Wolfgang himself wears a costume, and he studies the carefully crafted image of his tutor, dressed in mourning yet in clothes that speak of wealth and eloquence and power, and he wonders why Wolfgang wants to portray such an image of himself.

* * *

The king's grave stands tall and magnificent in a peaceful yet worthy place in the graveyard. Siegfried dutifully visits the grave with his mother, has visited it for years, but now his mother is ill and he is all by himself by the grave.

The text is stark black, taken care of by the gardeners and the clergy. The stone is cool under his fingers and nothing has worn it down yet. The flowers have wilted as the autumn has stretched on, and now rain may dim the sky but it does not dim the vision of his father's grave all alone, separate from everyone else on this graveyard.

Siegfried wonders if this will be his future as well, being above all yet separate from everyone else, or if this is simply an illusion forged to respect the institute of monarchy. He wonders whether he will ever find genuine connection in others than his tutor, and he wonders what his life is bound to become.

He is not that far from majority, after all, and majority means marriage to someone who is most likely a complete stranger to him.

It has been already difficult enough to feign excitement for his approaching birthday. Siegfried has been studying more than ever and learning all there is to know about taking care of his country, and he has been a constant shadow at his mother's back while she has been doing her duty as his regent while he is still too young to sit on the throne.

Soon he will reach his majority, and soon he will take the throne, and Siegfried is so confused and lost. He wishes he had more people to guide him, more people like Wolfgang, but the only advice he has comes from his tutor and his mother.

Siegfried looks at his father's grave and wonders if anyone truly knew the man that has been buried under the heavy stone for almost twenty years now.

* * *

The preparations for the ball are many and complicated. The castle is scrubbed from top to bottom and decorated so that anyone who enters will be dazzled by the magnificence. Siegfried watches with slight detachment as the servants bustle and hustle and make everything perfect. He's still having a hard time thinking this is all for him.

His mother finds him like that.

"Aren't you supposed to be preparing yourself for the ball?" the dowager queen gently chides him. Siegfried sighs. His mother's sharp eye glances the movement, but she doesn't comment upon it.

They stand there for a moment and watch as flowers are strung up. Even the gates are decorated. Everything must speak of their wealth and power to all those foreign visitors that shall arrive this evening and tomorrow.

"You will have to decide on a wife," his mother reminds him in a quiet voice and an empathetic look. Siegfried stares at the gilded gates and closes his eyes.

"How can I decide on someone to marry without ever having spoken to them before?" he asks. "How can I decide who will make a good wife and a queen?"

"You will have to follow your heart, Siegfried," his mother tells him gently. "Sometimes, our hearts know better. Listen to it and let it guide you towards the girl who feels the most promising."

Siegfried nods, a little unhappy yet wise enough not to argue with his mother. The queen kisses his cheek and then she is swept away by someone else's attention.

Siegfried is left alone to watch as the villagers celebrate the party as well. A familiar shadow appears in their midst and makes his way towards him.

"Worried about the ball, your highness?" Wolfgang asks him. Siegfried nods.

"I need to decide on a wife tomorrow," he says with profound unhappiness. Wolfgang hums as he studies the people dancing in celebration of the prince.

"It's tricky," Wolfgang notes. "It's not necessarily a choice you will make. Sometimes your heart will simply decide on someone and not waver after that moment."

Siegfried studies his tutor carefully. This is the most the man has ever said about his own family.

"What is it like?" Siegfried asks curiously. "Being in love?"

Wolfgang is quiet for a long moment, but there is much in his dark eyes. They seem suddenly much softer, far less guarded. Siegfried guesses that whoever the man must be thinking of, she must be magnificent.

"It is everything you expected and nothing at all like what has been told to you," Wolfgang says. "She will make you dizzy and afraid and at the same time, nothing matters but her smile and wellbeing. Days without her will feel impossible and nights with her will make you wish they would last forever. She will change you in ways you thought you could never change, but you are also glad about it because you would give up anything for just one more of her kisses."

Wolfgang looks suddenly very wistful. Siegfried has heard that the man has a wife who must be terribly ill since Wolfgang spends much time with her, but never has the man even mentioned her. It must be difficult for him, Siegfried concludes, having a wife he loves as much yet having to see her suffer.

They watch the villagers for a moment longer.

"I have a gift for you," Wolfgang says eventually, his eyes distant. "A crossbow."

They step away. Wolfgang shows Siegfried the silver weapon, and the prince is stunned by its beauty. Wolfgang's smile is a little distant.

"Tomorrow you will have much to think about, but tonight you are still free. Use your time wisely, Siegfried," Wolfgang says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Siegfried smiles back and slips away from the crowd into the forest.

* * *

He travels the forest, the lovely, dark and deep forest that is so quiet and peaceful. Dusk is about to settle into night and there is a light fog gathering all around. Siegfried lets his legs lead as he studies the skies.

A white swan flies above him, and he cocks the crossbow, but the canopy is too thick here. He follows the path of the swan until he reaches a lake that he did not even know that existed, and he witnesses as the swan gently lands on the shore. The wings are spread wide open, the chest pointed towards him, the head bent back in a long line, and he aims the arrow at her heart.

Her wings turn into hands. Siegfried lowers his crossbow in wonder and watches as the swan transforms into a beautiful woman, so delicate and pale and lovely, and he falls in love with her at first sight.

He hurries closer to her, and she spooks as he bursts from the trees. Her hands tremble as Siegfried gets closer to her, as he holds her arms and studies her wide, wondrous eyes.

"Who are you?" he asks. "How did you do that?"

There are so many questions that he wants answered, but she struggles against his hold. Siegfried understands she is afraid.

"Oh, please, sorry, I won't hurt you," he babbles and looks into her eyes. Something in her changes. She stops fighting and now she looks at him, and she is so very beautiful.

Siegfried thinks that she is worth more than all the jewels in the vaults, more beautiful than the crown that will soon be bestowed upon his head, more wondrous than stories of faraway lands, and she studies him with her wide, wondrous eyes.

* * *

Her name is Odette. She tells him a story of an evil magician who cursed her, though not in those words, but what she means is clear as the moon. Her voice is soft and quiet and she has many swan maidens as her friends, and she is their queen.

Siegfried embraces her and studies her pale skin with curious eyes, and the swan maidens guard them from any dangers. Odette seems content with just being with him. There is no need for protocol or empty talk with her. Odette seems glad just to have his hand to hold and with their few, too few moments of young love in the moonlight.

He tells her of a ball the following night and asks her to come, but she seems hesitant. The only thing she will say is that she isn't certain whether she will be able to come.

He waits the incoming morning sun with her, and only then does she let go of his hand. Siegfried stands on the shore as she spreads her hands wide open and closes her eyes as a human, sees the last breath enter her lungs before the first rays of light make her grow wings and feathers.

A black storm of a bird attacks him, and though Siegfried knows that Odette will not need him now, he still wishes he could defeat the evil sorcerer who so cruelly took her freedom, he is too weak for it. So he flees the lake and stumbles through the forest, and eventually, he finds his way back to the castle where everyone is frantic and relieved that he has, finally, returned.

* * *

The ball begins dreadful. Siegfried wishes he could slip away to the forest and look for the lake again, because there is nothing here that would be half as interesting or enchanting as the swan queen he met. They all wear the finest clothes available and have polite smiles on their faces that say nothing at all.

It is all so very boring until the horns announce another, slightly late arrival. Siegfried glances in the direction and then, he stares openly alongside everyone else.

He is more than surprised and delighted when he catches a glimpse of a creature far rarer and more beautiful than anyone else at the ball. He stops midsentence and stares at the young woman in a dark dress and jewels that shine bright red against her pale skin, and then he meets her eyes. No longer is she the coy creature he met at the lake last night. The ballroom lights have transformed her completely. She stands tall and confident, her head straight between her shoulders, and her eyes dazzle alongside her fine dress.

She has her hand resting on Count von Rothbart's arm, and for a moment, Siegfried is stunned, but then, Wolfgang bends over and looks at her with the love and care a father looks at his daughter. Siegfried is surprised when he realises that she must be his daughter, that the stunning swan maiden at his arm is related to the man. Her dark eyes glance across the room in his direction, but the father-daughter couple continue to other people and talk with them.

He forgets all about the foreign princesses and how they preen and perform. He forgets how he is supposed to choose a bride from them, too lost in the sight of the beautiful swan maiden.

She looks different, now. Siegfried imagines how moonlight must have made her look so frail, for the young woman standing on the other side of the room cannot be called delicate by any means. No, she has a hidden strength to her, a calmness and peace that was lost last morning when Siegfried watched her transform. She glances at his direction and is no longer shy, but gives him soft smiles.

Siegfried takes a sip of the bubbly wine and leaves his glass with a servant, and then, he starts making his way across the room.

"May I have this dance?" he asks with a keen smile, and she looks up at him.

"You may," she says with laughter in her eyes and glances at Wolfgang in confirmation. He smiles at his daughter and nods his head and allows it to happen.

Their eyes lock and they fall into the same step. She glides on his arms like she has always belonged in them. She is almost like a daydream too wonderful to be real, and yet she is there, a healthy flush to her face and eyes that shine bright with excitement. Her eyes, such dark and wondrous eyes, stare back into his, and he knows that there will be no one else that he could even think about marrying, for she has transformed him and his whole life.

They dance and twirl and sway, and eventually, the song comes to an end. Siegfried's hands linger for a moment longer and she lowers her head a little, but he can see that she is so happy and filled with life, and he can no longer stand but to let everyone know how wonderful she is.

"Dear friends, I am glad to tell you that I have made my decision," he declares in a bright and booming voice that is filled with excitement. "I have found my bride."

He looks at Odette and falters for a moment as he sees the frown forming on her brow, but he brushes that aside just like he brushes her hand with his thumb.

"You have shown me a world of wonders, and nothing will ever compare to my days if you are not by my side. My love for you will last an eternity and a day, and all that time I will treasure and cherish you. I will fulfil all your dreams and desires for showing me what I have been missing. I will share my life with you in everything and will have and hold you in return."

Her laughter reminds him of tinkling bells, but as he looks at her, something is wrong. It is not the laughter of joy and a broken curse, but a laughter of nervousness and clammy hands. Her father is already pushing through the crowd and he sets his heavy hand on her shoulder.

"You fool," Count von Rothbart spits at Siegfried and pulls Odette away from him. The girl in question glances at her father and looks suddenly far too nervous for this to be the happy occasion Siegfried wanted it to be. "Can you not even tell apart a mother from her daughter, a queen from a magician?"

None of the other guests hear what Count von Rothbart hisses at him, but there is no need. It is enough for them to see how he pulls his daughter towards the doors, and the poor girl doesn't fight back but almost seems as shocked as Siegfried.

The prince stands in the middle of the room with all eyes nailed on him and he thinks about the white swan queen he met last night and her face, and a horrifying realisation dawns on him. He lifts his eyes and sees everyone's judging eyes, and he flees before they can stop him.

* * *

The forest is dark, but it no longer is lovely, just deep and frightening. The trees catch in his clothes and scratch at his skin and Siegfried runs blindly. He wants to find the lake again, to see that it wasn't all just imagination. He wants to talk with Wolfgang and ask him what his words meant, wants to see Odette and ask for her forgiveness.

His feet stamp the ground and the haunting eyes in the shadows follow his path. He stumbles through bushes and passes by countless trees and he thinks he knows where he is going, and then, suddenly, the woods open up and he stumbles onto a shore. He cannot stop himself in time, taking a few steps into the water, but that is nothing to slow him down.

He sees the house with its lights shining bright not far from there, and all he can think about is the beautiful girl he met last night, the girl with such sad eyes that held a little hope in them.

"Odette!" he calls and hopes she hears him, and he heads towards the flock of swan maidens that is not too far away from the house. "Odette!"

He reaches the swan maidens and studies each face, but suddenly, he is so uncertain. Is Odette amongst them? They all look so similar, and he is so confused after seeing that girl at the ball.

Siegfried doesn't want to think about what it means when Wolfgang called the girl at the ball Odette's daughter, doesn't want to think about what it may mean when he immediately thought the girl to have been Wolfgang's daughter.

There are so many swan maidens, all of whom look like they could be Odette. Siegfried feels lost as he frantically studies the faces.

Then, there she is, standing right in front of him. Siegfried stops and breaths hard and steps closer. He clutches at the girl and feels so relieved he could cry.

"I'm so sorry, Odette," he mumbles and whispers a thousand frantic apologies, but Odette simply stares at him blankly. The eyes seem so empty now, so devoid of love and hope and wonder, and Siegfried hopes he can fix things.

His apologies are rushed but meant no less, but Odette simply looks at the swan maidens all around them and seems tired. She pulls away from him and the swan maidens clutch at him, and he swears and screams and fights against them, but their claws are sharp as they drag him towards the lake.

He sees as Odette goes to another swan maiden, one who stands on the shore and looks at him with sorrow so deep one could drown in, and he calls for Odette one last time. Suddenly, a spell is broken. Siegfried sees the broken girl from the ball curl up against the swan maiden, against the woman he met last night, against Odette, like a daughter falling into her mother's arms.

The water is cold and the swan maidens too many to defeat. Siegfried still fights against the unavoidable end.

* * *

The queen sets down the delicate porcelain cup and looks out of the large glass doors onto the lake. It's odd to see the place where her son drowned look so idyllic and peaceful, almost like this lake never claimed his life.

Count von Rothbart is looking the same direction with his carefully curated face, but the two other women in the room are both tired and teary-eyed. The mother, a frail and pale thing called Odette, looks spooked by the room and the gentle afternoon sun, whereas the daughter, the magnificent girl from the ball called Odile, has a face much too blank. The poor thing saw the prince screaming mad things and diving into the lake, and how could she not be affected by something like that after the night they had?

The dowager queen takes in a calming breath.

"Thank you for speaking with me, Wolfgang," she nods her head gracefully towards the dark man. He nods back and goes to sit next to his wife. Odette almost leans into him. The queen now understands just why the man always declined invitations to live at the palace. The woman by his side looks so sickly, and all the dowager queen has heard points at Wolfgang staying by her side to make her as happy and comfortable as possible.

"I'm afraid my harsh words at the ball may have been too much for him," Wolfgang says and caresses his wife's hand. He seems constantly aware of her, always searching for her touch or heat or a glimpse of her face. The daughter is much more composed. She looks like a slightly darker version of her mother, dressed in clothes that are clean and prim and proper and still somehow oddly sorrowful for a girl of her age.

"You could not have known the depths of his madness," the queen replies. "I doubt anyone could have imagined how he could no longer distinguish reality from imagination and would run into the lake like a madman."

"He had a good heart," Odette says suddenly and looks at Count von Rothbart, like a little lost bird that has left the nest too early. Wolfgang hums thoughtfully.

"A good heart and delusions of life being a fairy tale to think that proposing the first girl to catch his eye would ever work out in the real world," Odile murmurs and storms out of the house. Wolfgang sighs and holds Odette's hand. It's almost a conversation that they speak with a few glances and gestures. _Should we follow her_? Odette's eyes ask, and Wolfgang shakes his head. His hands answer that _she needs time to come to terms with this all_.

The queen wishes she could have had the same kinds of conversations with her king before he passed, but for the two, it was never that same ground-shattering love and understanding as for the two von Rothbarts.

"And the body still remains somewhere in the depths?" the queen asks. Odette flinches, the poor thing. She must be shaken from the whole experience, but the queen has already buried a husband. She knows how to mourn in private, how to keep herself composed in face of an immense sorrow.

"Hasn't come up," Wolfgang answers.

The queen looks at the lake and thinks how ironic it is that both father and son would perish not too far from one another, one from wild beasts that want to keep the forest to themselves, the other from delusions caused by too much stress from impeding adulthood responsibilities.

But there is no body to bury next to his father, simply an empty grave and a memory of a boy that should have lived a long and a happy life, a name that will never be transformed into the name of a king.

The queen wishes that at least this family can find a happy ending by a lake with no more swans.


End file.
